


Dirty Signing

by halzbarryscerek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Deaf Scott, Deaf Stiles, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5129744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halzbarryscerek/pseuds/halzbarryscerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott believed that his job as a sign language/video relay operator would be a piece of cake. What kind of awkwardness could ever come from sign language? Well, a bored and horny college student named Stiles proves otherwise.</p><p>Based on the short film from "The Little Death".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Signing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gydima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gydima/gifts).



> This little thing was inspired after watching a scene from the movie The Little Death. Unfortunately, the video with the full scene was taken down for copyright issues, but I'm sure some of you, hopefully, are familiar with it because a video of it had been circulating around Tumblr for a while.
> 
> Anyway, this was fun writing. I just love awkward!Scott so much.

It was only supposed to be a temporary job. Just something to help him through college. No one actually aspires to be a telephone operator, hell such a thing practically died out in the 60s or the 80s or something. But this was different. This was a New Age kind of phone operating: video relay. Basically, it was a phone line for deaf people where they would Skype with professionals via sign language as they, the video relayers, help the deaf callers in _relaying_ a conversation with some outside caller that they wouldn't be able to get a hold of over the phone, because ... well —well, because they were deaf, of course.

The whole thing sounded a little kooky, but since Scott had been having hearing problems since he was five, he obviously learned a few tricks of the hearing-impaired trade. One of the things he had learned in preparation for the worst was ASL, or just sign language. He had gotten pretty good at it, even if he never really had a reason to use it since he was lucky enough to get the right kind of hearing aid for himself at an early age, but it was always nice to have that kind of support net if things should ever take a turn for the worse.

But that was neither here nor there as the real story was with Scott and his new job at the video relay service. It was an open area, a series of desks and Mac computers lined up and webcams set up for the callers. It was a little voyeuristic, to be perfectly honest. Anyone on the job could easily catch whatever conversation was happening, but thankfully, people tended to mind their business during work hours. Which was great because Scott would just die if he was stuck in the middle of a very embarrassing conversation ... literally.

Even if no one cared about each other's callers, Scott was at least relieved he was working the late shift, which meant it was just him and another worker, Malia Tate, who was currently occupied mediating an argument between a Japanese girl and the sheriff's department about a high school kid streaking on her block. Glad Scott didn't have that to deal with.

Oh, how the universe loved fucking with him.

Scott straightened himself up when he finally got a caller signing in. Wasting no time, he clicked the blue telephone icon and a young man around his age appeared on the screen. He was cute, honestly, a spackle of moles all over his neck as he sat there dressed in a baggy flannel shirt. No need to dress to impress.

 **Hello, welcome to Video Relay** , Scott signed with a friendly smile. The guy nodded his head in affirmation and Scott continued his practiced speech. **What is the number you are trying to reach?**

 **1-900-356-9277** , the man replied casually as Scott began dialing the line.

And the name?

The man just shrugged his shoulders, which seemed a little odd, but Scott didn't question. It had begun to ring and he waited patiently until a woman's voice came on the line.

"You've reached the _Cock Lovers Line_ ," the woman said briskly, "Which one of our horny guys do you want to speak with?"

Scott's eyes widened to a cartoonish level because _no fucking way_. There was no way this guy was using this video relay hotline for ... _that_.

"Uh, I—I'm—I'm sorry?" Scott croaked out, a maddening blush forming on his cheeks.

"You've reached _Cock Lovers_ ," the woman had repeated, "Which one of our guys do you want to talk to?"

"H-hold, please," Scott squeaked out before lifting a trembling hand and signing out, **_I think I dialed the wrong number_.**

The guy looked at him expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

This is the number to an adult phone line.

The guy lifted his hands up, as if Scott wasn't seeing the big picture, before signing, **I am an adult.**

Scott sighed to himself, before stupidly asking, **But it's for phone sex.**

The guy replied with a thumbs up, and that all but confirmed Scott's suspicions, to his utter horror. The guy was cocking his head, eyes furrowed as he watched Scott become more and more flustered by the second. And how could he not? This was beyond embarrassing. It was mortifying. He had to hang up, he just had to.

But he couldn't, because his boss told him that all calls are taken, no questions asked. Fuck his life. He should've worked at Starbucks.

Scott straightened himself out again, puffing his chest and taking a deep breath. Confidently, he spoke in the same professional tone that he was taught meticulously by his superior. "Yes, this Scott from Video Relay, and I'm calling on behalf of—"

"I don't care, sweetie. Just tell me who you wanna speak to and I'll put you through."

"Right," Scott mumbled before turning toward his customer. **Who do you want to speak to?**

 **What are the options?** The man asked.

"What are the options?"

"Depends on what you're into," the woman replied before relaying the message to the guy.

He signed his answer back. "What have you got?" Scott asked.

The woman on the other line took a deep breath as if this might take a while. God help him. "We've got tops, bottoms, Doms, subs, high school jocks, college jocks, college nerds, twinks, interracial, Ebony, Latinos, Asians, transexuals, bisexuals, asexuals—that one's not very popular, unfortunately—down-low straight men, married men, straight-to-gay, threesomes, gangbangs, swingers, daddies, silver daddies, sons, uncles, nephews, cousins, brothers, Catholic priests, midgets, double penetration, triple penetration, quadrouple penetration, spit-roasting, roleplay, rape fantasy, prison fantasy, ass sniffers, face sitters, big cocks, small cocks, facials, snowballers, felching, rimming, anal sex, oral sex, ear sex, intercrural sex, pain puppies, adult diapers, crossdressers, bukkake, prostitutes, Catholic prostitutes—"

 **Hold, please** , Scott signed to the man as he fought to swallow the bile in his mouth from rising and spilling his breakfast all over the expensive computer. Society's morals had officially declined.

"—Catholic school boys, Catholic school secretaries, Catholic school parents picking up their kids from school and needing to be punished for being such naughty sluts—we've got barely legal, watersports, chubs, cubs, bears, otters, wolves, goat-fuckers ... really, honey, you just name it and we'll put you through."

Scott could feel all of the blood drain from his brain, and he was beginning to feel like he might pass out. He really wish he had gone deaf just now, because he was going to be scarred for the rest of his life. He wasn't even sure on God's holy earth what _felching_ even was.

 **They have tops and twinks** , Scott said finally.

The man looked at him, confused. He was flailing his arms wildly in protest. **That's it?**

**That's it.**

**No double penetration? Or Silver daddies? Or big, fat, juicy cocks?**

Scott shook his head, because _God no_. There was a limit and he had already crossed it, and he didn't want to go any further. The man huffed in disappointment before half-heartedly answering with **Top, I guess**.

"I'd like a top, please," Scott said cheerily with a smile.

"Connecting you now." The line began to ring and hopefully this night would be over soon.

A masculine and sensual voice came on the other line, speaking seductively into Scott's ear. "Hey, this is Derek."

"Hi, hello, Derek, my name is Scott from Video Relay and I'm calling on behalf of—"

"Oh, fuck, you sound so hot Scott," the man interrupted. "Are ready for me to destroy that pretty little slut hole of yours with my big, fat juicy cock?"

"Oh, yeah, shit, _no_ ... No, no, no." Fucking Christ. Scott took a deep breath and in one breath, he spoke, "My name is Scott from Video Relay and I have a caller on the line who uses sign language and I'll be interpreting the call for the two of you."

There was a small pause on the other line, and the caller was looking at Scott expectantly, pink lips pursed together impatiently which was honestly the cutest thing.

"I'm sorry ... What?" Derek replied finally after a short while.

Scott can't say he completely disagreed with him here. He wasn't even sure how all of this would even work.

"I have a caller on the line who's deaf and he uses sign language and I'll be interpreting everything for the two of you tonight."

"Wait, he's deaf?"

"Yes."

"So, he can't hear me?"

Scott rolled his eyes, because what was so hard to grasp about all of this. Oh, right ... "No, he can't hear anything. He's deaf."

"So, I'd be talking to you and you'd be relaying the message over to him?"

Scott sighed in relief. "Yes, it's sign language."

Derek hummed. "I know a couple of words in sign language. I know _'cum dumpster'_ and _'full moon'_."

Scott honestly didn't know how to respond to that.

"So, what's he look like?"

Scott gave the guy another onceover. "He's really cute. Hair sticking up, but, like, in a really sex way."

"Sexy hair?" Derek asked skeptically. "So, what's his name?"

"It would be easier if you talked to me as if I were him."

"What's your name?"

 **Stiles** , the man answered once Scott translated for him.

"Fuck, man, that's slow."

Scott winced. "I'm sorry, that's going to be a small delay."

"Delayed relay," Derek quipped amusingly before his voice darkened to a more flirtatious tone. "So what are you doing right now, Steve?"

"Stiles."

"Right, Stiles."

Scott relayed the message again. "Just finishing up some work for class." ( **Ask him what he's wearing.** ) "What are you wearing?"

"I've got on these pair of really tight, black boxer-briefs. How about you?"

**Nothing but my boxer-shorts.**

"Nothing but boxers," Scott relayed.

"Is he really?" Derek asked dryly.

Scott snorted. "No, just some flannel shirt."

He stopped himself when he saw Stiles flailing his arms angrily at the screen, mouthing something that was probably too obscene for work. Then again, this entire awkward exchange was too obscene for work.

"Hold, please," Scott told Derek, before looking at Stiles with concern. **What's wrong?**

 **Don't tell him what I'm actually wearing!** He looked really frustrated and Scott felt his heart sink.

**I didn't!**

**I can read lips!**

Scott blushed, because _holy shit_ , he was not informed of this. He began to flail his own hands in apology. **Sorry, sorry, sorry!**

Stiles just smirked, waving a hand dismissively. **It's fine, brother. I'll forgive because you called me cute and said my hair was sexy.**

Scott's face was hot again, and all he could do was shake his head, vehemently denying such accusations, but Stiles was still looking at him smugly, pointing to his right eye and then to his lips, indicating that he could see everything. Scott didn't think his face could get any hotter, but somehow, he managed. This night needed to end, otherwise, he might be the first person to literally die from embarrassment.

Stiles had started signing again. **It's okay. I think you're cute too.**

Scott's heart began to race and he couldn't fight away the goofy grin forming at the corners of his mouth. And when he did, Stiles' eyes widened, mesmerized. **Your smile ...**

 **My smile?** Scott asked.

**I love your smile. You have a great smile.**

Scott felt his breath hitch and the smile on his face grew wider. **Thank you.**

"Um, hello?" Derek growled impatiently. "I'm still on the line here."

Scott jumped in his seat. "Oh, right! I'm sorry, right. Where were we?"

"Boxer briefs."

"Right. He's taking his shorts off. He's really hard right now. He's ..."

He blushed at the sign that Stiles was giving him.

"He's ...?" Derek pressed.

"He's ..."

**I'm fingering myself open!**

"Oh, God."

**TELL HIM I'M FINGERING MY HOLE!**

"He's fingering his ... anus."

Another pause. "He's fingering his 'anus'?" Derek sounded bemused. "Wow."

"He wants you to shove your big, fat ... c-co—pe-pen—your-your member inside his ... uh, his entrance."

"You're really not good at dirty talk, are you?" Derek asked, making Scott duck his head in shame. "Look, just tell Sam—"

"Stiles."

"—Tell him I'm shoving my big dick up his ass and I'm tearing up his little bitch hole like the dirty slut that he is. Tell him I'm gonna make him scream my name and then I'm gonna make him swallow my cock with his whore mouth."

"Okay, lemme write that down, so I'll remember ... Shit. What came after ' _bitch hole_ '?"

Scott saw Stiles moving through his peripheral vision and saw that Stiles had his head thrown back, guffawing madly at how terrible Scott was at this. Scott would almost feel insulted by his amusement, but he couldn't help but laugh with him. It was when he realized that while he was doing his best to try and make this as professional as possible, there was absolutely no way for that to be possible given the situation.

 **I cannot believe I'm doing this!** Scott signed.

 **Hang up! Hang up the phone!** Stiles was still laughing like a jovial, little child, hand on his gut like it was about to burst.

"Thank you, Derek, I'm so sorry for wasting your time," Scott all but laughed over the phone.

"Wait, hold on—" The line went dead.

 **Why would you put me through this?** Scott asked good-naturedly. **Do you have any idea how humiliating all of this was?**

Stiles smirked at him. **You were loving it. Don't deny it!**

Scott smiled coyly, shaking his head. **No way!**

 **What was your name again?** Stiles had asked.

Scott blushed. **It's Scott. Scott McCall.**

Stiles looked at him, as if Scott was some national landmark that had to be admired. He was looking at him the way Scott had always wanted someone to look at him like and it was honestly leaving him breathless.

 **This was fun, Scott McCall.** Stiles said Scott's name with an S and the sign for phone. It was how he was going to remember him by. **Made my night.**

Scott was smiling again. **Just don't call back and make me dial any more phone sex lines!**

Stiles threw his head back again. **I am definitely going to again. I just hope it's you who answers.**

Scott just shrugged. **Good night, Stiles.**

 **Good night, Scott** , Stiles signed. **And I hope we get to see each other again.** And just like that, the screen went black and Scott felt his heart sink a little.

"Yeah, we will ..." Scott mumbled to himself.

"Do I even wanna know?" Malia asked from across the table, but Scott just scoffed and sat back against his seat.


End file.
